March 2008 Archives
Copan Expat Barrom Wisdom
In Copan, they think that I do not have any huevos. I like orange juice. I go out to the local expat bar on Friday night, and I only drink orange juice. My drinks receive the hairy eyeball from the entire assemblage expat lifestyle drunks, as they sit innocently on the table in front of me like some bastard pariah child, but I like them. I also like going out at night, having fun, and then being able to wake up at 7AM with a clear head and a disposition to enjoy the beautiful Saturday day. But, sometimes, in any barroom, from the mouth of any washed out drunk, there is a chance that pure wisdom could seep into your ears amid all of the slag.
Singapore at 6 am
Getting around a city in the early hours always opens up a new vista on a place. This week I am staying down on the outskirts of Chinatown (Duxton Hill to be precise) and am therefore well away from the tourist and shopping end of town. A travel “snobbery” I am happy to admit and continue to indulge. This part of the city gives you a feel for what the place used to be like, before the high rise apartments and office blocks and chic shopping centres messed with the heart of the place. Mind you Duxton hill is not what it appears either - the old shuttered houses which are so appealing are usually the home now of upmarket restaurants and very hip bars. Selling expensive drinks.
Three Days in Amazing Calcutta
After traveling around by land during my first week in India, I arrive in Calcutta on a late-night Kingfisher Airlines flight from Hyderabad. The flight is great, and serves as a good model for what U.S. airlines could learn from if they were interested in learning anything. Everyone receives a full meal on the all-economy flight, we have Bollywood movies on our own individual screens, and the flight attendants are extremely gracious. It’s just like Jet Blue, except they actually deliver what they promise.
Due to air traffic control delays (something all too universal, unfortunately), we are about an hour and a half behind schedule, putting us getting into CCU airport close to midnight. I think Pico Iyer once wrote that all flights to Calcutta are destined to land at 3:00 a.m. By that standard, I suppose, we’re three hours early.
Miami Beach Lifeguard Tower Art
Apparently after 1992's fierce Hurricane Andrew (a Category 5 storm ranked as the second most destructive in U.S. history), an architect named William Lane donated his design services to the city by adding a creative twist to the standard lifeguard station. His handful of towers in the South Beach area instantly became symbols of a revived Miami Beach. Nearly two decades later, a few of the original towers can still be found standing, but many of the questionable concepts have been replaced with more practical designs.
Multicultural Crash Test Dummies
There are eighteen bridges on the road to Robertsport. The twelfth has become a close friend.
Robertsport—or
Rawspoh, as it's pronounced by most Liberians we met—is a
once-beautiful town, on a still-beautiful beach, about ten miles south
of the border with Sierra Leone, and a three-and-a-half-hour,
hundred-mile drive north of Monrovia. Three and a half hours, that is,
if it's pulled off without complication. This being Liberia, however,
little occurs without complication.
Adventure in Europe: Interview with Scott and Karie
Scott and Karie first decided that they wanted to live overseas five years ago, shortly after getting engaged. In late 2007, they finally took the plunge, selling almost everything they owned and hopping on a flight to Barcelona. For the next year, Barcelona is their home base as they explore the rest of Europe.
TravelBlogs had the opportunity to catch up with them and learn more about why they decided to do this trip, how they saved money, and their experiences on the road so far.
Luang Prabang: Him want to marry you!
It strikes without warning and without mercy. Even the most experienced travelers succumb to its monstrosity. We did not heed their warnings: convinced of our invincibility, we threw caution to the wind. But the dreaded Bangkok belly will not be evaded.
I’d go into more detail, but I REALLY don’t think you want to know.
No. 170: A Pretty Good Canyon
Mostly, you expect to be left breathless by the Grand Canyon. Not just by the steep trails that plummet you miles down to the muddy Colorado River, but by the overwhelming scale of the thing. Etched in red, orange, buff hues, layer upon layer, a hundred tributary canyons feeding into the big one. Standing at any vista point, the ten crow-miles across the canyon look flat, like a painting you could caress. And then you move a little. Shadows shift, new light gives it new depth and the grandeur of it takes your breath away. This is what you expect of the Grand Canyon. What you don’t expect is the techno music.
Life of a Travel Writer: Interview with Lara Dunston
If you have ever dreamed of becoming a travel writer, chances are you may have shrugged that dream off as impossible. To many, making a living as a travel writer seems fanciful, well and truly beyond reach.
This week, I had the chance to interview Lara Dunston, a professional travel writer from Australia who has penned guidebooks for Lonely Planet, Dorling Kindersley and Thumbnail Guides, and written articles for National Geographic Traveler, Lifestyle+Travel, USA Today and many other publications. Together with her husband Terry, a professional photographer and writer, she is in her third year of perpetual travel. From her current location in Turkey, she was happy to dispel some myths about the world of travel writing, while sharing a little about her personal experiences.
Sahagun and the Moors - Day 22
The stars outside the tent last night were amazing. There were no lights within sight, no hills to block the view, just an enormous half sphere of sky with more and brighter stars than I’ve ever known. The walking is less inspiring, continuing endlessly on a ruler-straight purpose built cycle track, across a frying pan of a landscape. Trees have been planted along one side but it will be years before they are big enough to provide shade. The fields here are enormous and have no hedges; presumably because water is so scarce, and there are huge tractors harvesting the wheat before transporting it into the huge silos that dominate the villages. No working the land by hand here.
366 Days and Counting
It was one year ago today that I closed on my house and turned over the keys. The days leading up to closing on my house were hectic. I had a giant U-Haul full of crap I had to move to Wisconsin, I had more boxes of books and National Geographic Magazines (have I a rather large collection) than I realized and I miscalculated.
I didn’t sleep for about 48 hours at one stretch trying to finish packing everything.
Seoul Notebook: Days Spent at the Coffee Shop
THINKING BACK, I WAS probably first drawn to Coffee Flanel because of its ridiculous sign. It read: “Flanel than ever before.” By then I was accustomed to the butchered, overwrought English phrasing that was plastered all over Seoul, but that line had a quirky ring to it that made me stop and grin.
It was August. I had just trekked all over the campus that was to be my home for the next year and was disgustingly sweaty; the idea of AC and an iced drink sounded fantastic. I climbed a stairway up to the second story to find the cafe’s glass door. Inside it was brightly-lit and cleanly decorated with dark wood and white tile.
Toronto the White
A few weeks ago Toronto was getting another blanketing of snow. I was standing in the vestibule of my apartment building doing up my jacket’s zipper and securing my hat and gloves. A man walked into the vestibule also readying himself to head out into the falling snow.
“Bad winter, eh?” I said
He shrugged his shoulders and said, “it’s Canada.” Then he turned and walked outside, letting twister of blowing snow into the vestibule and causing a chill to creep up my spine.
“I don’t know, seems bad to me,” I said to no one, before hunkering down my shoulders and heading out into the snow.
Aswan Agatha Christie Style
After a wonderful morning at Abu Simbel, we arrived in Aswan to find that Roger had booked us into the rather decadent Old Cataract Hotel. A beautiful hotel, no doubt, but I just about had a coronary in the lobby when I found out the extent of the damage that our Nile view room would be doing to our bank account. It was a little bittersweet when, to make me feel better, Lloyd pointed out that this was (forthcoming wedding aside) the final hotel bill of our entire World Trip! It was a sad realization but at least we’re going out in style!
Trekking Adventures in Thailand: Day 1
The third best thing about Thailand is the food, from mangos with sticky rice to noodles with EVERYTHING. The second best thing about Thailand is that Enrique Iglesias doesn’t live here. But the BEST thing about Thailand is that we can actually afford to DO things here! Last week, we took a 2-day trek into the hills north of Chiang Mai, as part of a package deal that included elephant riding, hiking with a local guide, whitewater rafting, bamboo rafting, all our meals, and accommodation in a hilltribe village. Total price: $30 each, or about 20 euros for you silly people back in the Old World. Do you realize what 20 euros would buy you in Western Europe? Do you?? Well, neither do I, because I don’t think they make euro coins that small. It’s like the half-cent on sales tax that always gets rounded up at the register. Moral of the story: travel in wonderful, affordable SE Asia, and whatever you do, don’t let Iglesias find out about it.
Unearthing Skeletons at Copan
Copan is the first archaeology site that I have worked on with the regular presence of human remains. Skeletons are growing out of the bottom of trenches as the soil is gingerly removed from their exteriors. The Central American and Japanese excavators stand over the remains and talk shop. Digging up the ancient remains of humans is all part of the day’s work for these weathered Mayan archaeologists.
I cut my archaeological teeth in the forests of the United States and on the Manabi Coasts of Ecuador. A big site for me is a few post molds, a couple good hearths, and a scatter of lithic remnants and tools. Copan has pyramids. Copan is a city of mortar and art and sporting courts. Copan is far beyond anything that I have experienced in archaeology.
No 163: Collecting Stickers, When You Can
The first time Amy wrote about our quest for good stickers, we were in Oklahoma about a year and a half ago. I was still reeling from the incredible revelation that not every museum gift store or quirky roadside attraction offers a sticker to commemorate your visit. I've gotten used to the idea now and am no longer surprised when a major tourist attraction's gift store offers a million different kind of magnets, patches, t-shirts and beer cozys and no stickers. Such was the case back in Atlanta, at Coke HQ.
Mario of Copan
They call me Mario here. This is the name that I was given by the Honduran fieldworkers on the archaeology excavation that I am working on at Copan. “Mario,” they call out to me and then laugh. There is something funny about this Mario name. I don’t know what it is. Maybe there is something funny about me.
I would not doubt it.
1,000 Words
Ah, Chiang Mai. After Bangkok, Thailand’s second largest city is like a breath of fresh air. Picture me sitting on the sunny patio of a cafe, drinking Thai iced tea, eating fresh mango, and writing in my journal, as I whimsically sigh “ah…Chiang Mai…,” and you’ve got a pretty good idea of how I spent my time in the city.
We took a train through the rice paddies and beautiful countryside of Northern Thailand, to arrive in Chiang Mai sometime last week. We became so enamored with the city we extended our stay multiple times. Ben has deemed it a Special Place, a hard-earned title in our book, alongside Chania and Charlottesville. The Thai are proud of this city, and consider it the cultural and culinary capital of the country. Which probably explains why we like it so much.
4,000 Miles Across Europe - on Foot: Interview with Paul Webster
In 2002, Paul Webster set off with his wife Helen on an epic 4,000 mile walk from Spain to Turkey. Years later, Paul is reliving the journey on his blog, The Big Walk, which also raises funds for an environmental charity.
TravelBlogs exchanged emails with Paul and learned more about the walk and the impact it had on his and Helen's lives.
Borobudur
Iconic symbols are a theme I will be referring to often. For example, when you think of Paris, what image comes to mind? Probably the Eiffel Tower. Rome? The Colosseum. London? Big Ben. New York, LA, San Fransisco? The Statue of Liberty, the Hollywood Sign, and the Golden Gate Bridge.
I can go on and on about how certain places have certain images associated with them.
Sometimes the image isn’t of an object or a building. If you think of Argentina, you think of people doing the tango or of gauchos.
What comes to mind when you think of Indonesia? Unless you live there or have visited there, my guess is it isn’t a good image. It is probably one of earthquakes, landslides or tsunamis.
I would like to suggest, however, a new (actually quite old) iconic image for Indonesia: Borobudur
The Maragateria - Day 16
We’re now in the Maragateria, a plateau named after its mysterious inhabitants, the Maragatos. It’s thought they are descendents of the Berbers, and they only married amongst themselves until recent times. We see few people around though - the landscape is rough grassland interspersed with bushes, something like the African savannah. Lower down, the farmland begins and we detour from the camino to visit Calzadilla de los Polzabaves, the finest surviving Maragato village. A maze of cobbled streets and limestone houses with pan tiled roofs, it’s wonderfully preserved with not a single modern building. Today, the BMWs, Jaguars and smart restaurants are signs that it has become a classy tourist village of second homes and weekend retreats for the wealthy.
Peeing and Alligators
So far we have been too genteel to talk about things like peeing in our blogs. But here goes.
People ask us many things when we meet them out front of the local Albertson’s, Piggly-Wiggly or Publix grocery stores. “Where do you sleep?” “What do you eat?” “How far do you ride every day?” But they’ve never asked about our peeing adventures.
The other day I decided to count the number of alligators beside the road as we cycled eastwards across “Alligator Alley” – Florida Route 41. If you look at the map, they call I-75 by that name, but we’d been assured that we were cycling across the true, the original, the one-and-only Alligator Alley.
No 161: Elvis Presley's Graceland
Unlike our trip from Oregon to Florida in 2006, Amy and I have packed our current cross-country itinerary with some of the greatest American road trip stops in human history. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Elvis Presley's Graceland. Here's how it happens.
The Wait: In our case, we waited a full 32 hours before actually getting in because we arrived on a Monday night to find that Graceland is closed on Tuesdays. Besides using this time to see Memphis (recommended), we also used it to download Elvis music and begin the process of saturating our consciousness with the sappy, tender melodies of the best selling musician of all time. When the big day finally arrived, we had already seen the Sun Studio space where the King cut his first record, all of the hotel signs along Elvis Presley Blvd. that boast "All King" beds, and listened to Elvis's 50 greatest hits on continuous repeat about two dozen times.
What’s on the Menu at Bangkok’s Chatuchuk Market?
Donuts, vipers, and neckties. You’d really think you’d need to visit three separate stores to complete that shopping list. Not so in Bangkok’s (in)famous Chatuchuk Market. The best piece of advice that Lonely Planet ever gave us was to set aside an entire day for the market experience.
We arrived at 10:00 on Saturday morning to find an area the size of a fairground full of shoppers elbowing for room in the innumerable rows and columns of shop stalls. It is certainly madness, but there is a semblance of method. The grid is (mostly) categorized into clusters of similar stalls. To your left might be toy stalls, then clothes stalls, followed by an illegal cock-fighting ring. On the right, art stalls, food stalls, and pet stalls. Those last two overlap more than I’d prefer.
